I came home from work yesterday and we decided to go into the pool with the kids. Don't ask me why, but for whatever reason- being in the pool with Michael always sort of makes us closer. I don't know what it is- we tend to sort of cling to each other, probably because that is where we spent a few days after we got married. In a pool and just attached like that. (ok, not like THAT!)
So we were in the pool and I was sort of wrapped around him for most of the time. It was nice, but strange, because we are not usually so close for more than a few seconds. I guess I am just feeling particularly emotional right now. PMS? Or maybe I'm just feeling strangely empty with my anxiety.
Last night I went to bed, mostly undressed. I wasn't wanting or expecting any kind of sex, but I admit I just wanted to be close. To him, to someone. Life gets lonely and the nature of my life while it seems quite interesting to some, can quite often still be a pretty lonely existence at the end of the day. So he barelt notices, and leaves the room.
2 minutes.... 4 minutes... 7 minutes... What the fuck? I called him and asked him to come to bed.
Yes- I ASKED HIM TO COME TO BED.
9 minutes... 12 minutes... 15 minutes.
Fuck this- I got up and got dressed.
22 minutes later he comes to bed. I am hurt and just totally defeated. He comes to bed. The words exchanged are not nice, they are not at all warm or comforting or anything.
He's fucked up. He's got issues upon issues. A long time ago, a therapist told us- told ME, that WE will never be able to work things out until HE gets well. That he will never be able to tend to my needs until he can take care of his own. That if I decide to stay in this marriage, I simply CANNOT expect him to play an active roll for ME- until he deals with his own problems first. any attempts that he makes to work on the marriage or efforts he makes towards me will be shallow and shortlived, even if the intention is there. So you know, sorry sister- you come second. Get a tattoo- don't forget. EVER.
I was SO reminded of that last night. I admit, I lashed out at him for it. Sometimes, not often, but SOMETIMES I need my HUSBAND to be able to effectively make me feel better. Everyone once in a while I should be allowed to feel like I fucking matter.
Apparently it's just not my turn yet.
About Me
- Julie
- Using my 40's as a do-over for my thirties, only smarter. I often mistake the bees and honey reference with the one about free milk and a cow. This might explain my whole life.
1 comment:
This reminds me of a woman I care about in her marriage; OK, even worse than yours.
WHY?! Why do women throw good emotion after bad? I don't get it and she can't explain it. Can you? What makes him of such value that you suffer repeated rejection and keep on?
IMO, that isn't likely to change his behavior if you continue taking it with little (in his opinion) consequence.
Post a Comment